


Owned

by willneversink



Category: One Direction
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Possessive Louis, Rich Louis, with a side of ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willneversink/pseuds/willneversink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is owned by a person he barely knows. He just knows he can trust him enough to live with him under the same roof.</p><p>or where Louis is rich af and Harry can barely support himself so Louis is always ready to help even though he barely knows the boy with long chocolate curls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was supposed to be a normal night for Louis Tomlinson. After a long day of work he would say his good nights to the employees, he would drive his car to take him home, then he would make himself a not-so-healthy dinner, he would do some office works and after that he would swim into his warm bed.

But guess what? It turned upside down.

Liam decided to burst in his office just when he finished his last meeting of the day. He dragged him—literally—until they were at the parking lot. He snatched the key from Louis and drove his car. Louis didn't have any choice but to hop in and shook his head. He almost broke Liam's neck when he saw where the hell Liam took him. Liam laughed at him before dragging him inside. Why the fuck he had to drag him? He has his own feet, for heaven's sake!

"Liam, seriously? Do you think I like this place?"

"Oh, come on, Louis! Just have fun!" he laughs as he drinks his scotch for just one shot.

Louis shakes his head and brings the glass to his lips as he moves his eyes around to look at the place. Liam is cheering and laughing like a maniac just like everyone else in the room. Liam fucking brought him to a club—a fucking  _strip_  club. He just can't believe Liam.

Most of the crowd is men. Well, of course. This is a gay strip club. They are all ogling at the guys dancing on stage with nothing but white boxers on and a bow tie wrapped around their necks. No, Louis is not a homophobic ass—and no, don't call him prude. He's been to this kind of place but something is just not right and he feels uncomfortable. He prefers going out in a bar and dance with strangers on the dance floor than seeing these boys sexually grinding on the pole.

"Can we just leave?" he says quietly.

"No," Liam answers with furrowed brows. "If you want to go, go. Leave me here, I'm fine."

"I'm going tell Zayn." Liam's eyes flashes and he glares at Louis. Louis just raises a brow, taking in the flat line of Liam's lips. And then it hits Louis, "You two fought."

It's not even a question because he knows. He knows the two fought. Because if they didn't, Liam wouldn't be here and Liam would go home straight to their house after the work, but Liam is here. He has already drank the half of the scotch in the bottle. He's grinning from ear to ear but its pretentious because of his eyes. It's just not right.

"What about don't drag me to your problem? I should be eating my precious dinner right now!"

Liam rolls his eyes, pouring some scotch in his glass. Louis fishes out his phone in his pocket and starts to tap against the screen. Liam immediately raises his brow, eyes burning into Louis' phone, "Are you texting him?"

"No."

_'Zayn, help. Call your boyfriend. Tell him to come home because he's such a lil shit.'_

He smirks to himself and lets the taste of scotch lingers to his tongue before he swallows it down and feels the burn in his throat down to his chest. His brows shoot up in surprise when Liam jolts from his seat as he fidgets with his phone until his accusing eyes lands on Louis who's looking at him smugly.

"I'm going to kill you, I swear."

"I'll be waiting for that time," he grins, giving Liam a salute as he makes his way to the exit.

And now he's alone. He can leave actually, but his curiousness won't let him. He definitely should go home because he has to wake up early for tomorrow but here he is, looking around with curious eyes and bored expression on his face. He doesn't find those men on stage entertaining. He has his own definition of _entertaining_  and that's definitely not dancing seductively on stage.

Well, he found one.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

He starts singing _'trouble, trouble, trouble'_  in his head as he watches the scene on his left side. He swirls his glass and licks his lower lip while intently and interestingly looking at the two guys in front of him. Surprisingly, he finds that quiet entertaining.

"YOU RUINED MY SHIRT."

He winces at the tone, loudness and ugliness of that voice. His black shirt is wet—not all of it and he's just overreacting. His dark hair is spikey and he has a broad chest and shoulders. Well, Louis does too—never mind.

"I'm sorry, sir. Let me get you another drink," the waiter with big curls bows his head and steps back but Spikey—yes, Louis named him—grabs the waiter's arm. Louis sees how tight the grip is and the waiter's white skin is slowly turning into red.

Oops, that's foul. Violence.

"I don't need another drink,  _bitch_."

His brow shoots up at the word. Bitch? That's just plainly rude. And what does he want then? A new shirt? Louis internally rolls his eyes. He licks his lower lip, crosses his legs and leans back in his seat. Few of the customers start to notice what's happening but only just few of them. Most of them are busy watching those guys on the stage.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I was just—" he tries to escape from his grip, biting his lower lip. He looks so uncomfortable. And the way his green eyes look at Spikey is horrible to see. Its like he's hopeless and asking for some help. Horror is written all over his face. And when Spikey brings his lips closer to the waiter's ear, his eyes start to well up with tears. "Stop, please."

"What do you mean stop?" Spikey says, offended—this fucker—as he moves away from the poor waiter. "I CAN BUY YOU, SLUT."

The poor waiter turns to pale as he shakes his head. His lower lip is quivering but he bites it. Louis' eyes travel from his head to toe. He's wearing a tight blue jeans and a white tank top that shows his porcelain white skin. His skin looks so soft and his arms are not that muscular but he looks so good. He looks innocent and Louis thinks he doesn't belong in this place. Where people like Spikey treats him—them—like a trash and not a human.

"What's happening here?"

Louis' head snaps to the lady who's almost running towards the chaos. Spikey still has his big dirty hand on the waiter's arm. He's looking at the floor to hide his tears but his body is shaking. He's that scared. Louis gently picks up his glass and drinks, still not taking his eyes off the scene. This is quiet sight and he thinks—on the side note—having popcorn would be nice but scotch is all he's got.

The lady with blonde hair is in her royal blue dress approaches them. Not too revealing and not too formal. Her blonde hair is falling freely over her shoulder. She looks between the two and puts a gentle hand on the waiter's back before gently pulling him to her. Spikey slowly releases the waiter's arm but grips it before pulling away completely. She slides her right hand to his back and smiles politely at Spikey.

"He poured my drink on my shirt," Spikey says, almost glaring and his face is red like tomato.

"Apologies, Mister. We'll just get you another drink, please."

The Lady in Blue doesn't break her stare at Spikey and keeps her smile plastered on her face, rubbing the waiter's back soothingly. Spikey crosses his arms over his chest, inhaling deeply and looking at the waiter from head to toe just like what Louis did but Spikey looks like a hungry lion and Louis finds him disgusting.

"I want him."

"What the fuck," Louis mutters to himself, chuckling softly and shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, sir. But he only works here as our waiter who serves foods and drinks, nothing more."

"Oh," Louis nods. "That's why he looks innocent then."

It surprises Louis how calm the Lady in Blue is. Her smile isn't leaving her face and it will be annoying to be in Spikey's place when there's a woman in front of you mocking you with her beautiful smile. Louis smirks. She's fucking smart.

"And you were harassing him, weren't you?" she narrows her eyes. Spikey shifts under her stare. "I can sue you because of that. You wouldn't want the same thing to be done to your mother, would you? So don't do things you don't want to be done to you. Don't cause any trouble. I can kick you out of here right now and ban you for the rest of your life."

She releases a soft chuckle and gives him a wink.

"Have a good night, Sir," she smiles still and turns her back with a silent boy next to her. Her smile fades and her face flashes concern and worry. She looks like she's his mother by the way her hand soothingly rubs his back and wipes his tears away.

His phone buzzed.

 _'I'm on my way back home. Now you pay the bill. AND MY RAGING HUSBAND SAID HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND. GO HOME BECAUSE YOU ALSO HAVE WORK TOMORROW, MR. FUCKING CEO - Liam'_  

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Why are you doing that?" 

Louis turns around with a cup of tea in his hands as Liam's voice echoes in the B reak R oom. Liam is in his black suit and red neck tie  that he already knows who picked  for Liam. He takes a sip of his tea, leans  his hips against  the table and put s  his left hand in the pocket of his trousers.

"What, can't I make my own tea now?"

"You have your assistant to do that."

"Nah, she's already busy. How's your night?" he smirks. "Good?"

Liam's tired eyes immediately sharpens and he glares at Louis real quick that makes Louis laugh, lips pressed against the cup. "Thanks for reminding me."

"What? You should've gone home as soon as your wor k was  done yesterday." Liam only rolls his eyes, pulling a chair, sitting on it before he bows on the table like  a student sleeping in his class. "But then you  had to  drag  me to a club. A  _fucking_   strip club. What the fuck?"

Louis shakes his head and stands straight. 

Liam just sighs loudly. "I was trying to have fun."

"You're married. Did you forget?" Louis grins. "Your fun comes from your partner not with anyone or anything."

"We fought," he mumbles tiredly, lifting his head. He stares preoccupied  at the table with his lips pouted. "Because he keeps on seeing that bloke even though I told him not to." 

"So you think going to a strip club would help?"

"I was mad! They went out for lunch and he only told me after. And you," Liam moves his eyes to Louis. "You traitor. You texted him!"

"What? You're cheating," he shrugs, bringing the cup to his lips and lets it linger a little longer. 

"I wasn't!" Liam grunts, holding his head. "He kicked me in the gut as soon as  my right foot touched our house."  Louis chokes and he puts his cup down to laugh properly. Liam's face splits into a fond smile. "He kissed me after, though." 

"I love Zayn."

"I love him more," Liam sticks his tongue out. "We're fine now. Just a little bit sleepy. Haven't  got e nough sleep."

"I see," Louis smirks, tugging down Liam's collar to expose  his neck full of hickeys. He flicks Liam's ears that make s  them both laugh before he goes outside the room and look at the peaceful chaos in front of him. 

The floor is  loaded  with  employees in  pencil  skirts ,  and ties ,  and suits.  S ome  are busy at their own stations, some are running back and forth with the stack of papers and some are just —are, well, sitting pretty. 

"Did you get any last night?"  Louis sighs and touch es  the bridge of his nose, walking away from Liam. Well Liam still followed him. This annoying little bean won't stop. "Don't tell me you didn't?"

He keeps his mouth shut as he walks with his hands in his pocket, smiling at his employees with a Payne following him like an annoying pap. "Just focus on your husband."

"I do. He's all I can see. What about you? Did you meet someone last night?" Liam nudges his side by his elbow, chuckling. "Did you?"

"Good morning, Sir."

" Mornin' ," he greets, smiling and raising his brows. "Have you eaten your breakfast yet?"

"Uh m. N o, Sir," she shakes her head, clutching the folder closer to her chest. 

"Well, you should. Don't want you  guys  to pass out, do I?" he smiles softly. "Have a good day." 

He hears the blocked squea k s behind him that make  him  release a  chuckle  somehow. He knows he's good looking but he doesn't find himself the reason for the women to blush or squeal. It's just crazy. To his surprise —kidding, he's not surprised —Liam is still behind him, giggling.

"Look at your employees. Most of them have a crush on you, how does it feel like? She's blushing! I thought she put her blush on all over her face, " he cackles. 

"Go back to work, Liam," he laughs silently, pushing his door open. He makes his way to his tufted white leather office c hair. He leans back and closes his eyes as Liam sits behind his wooden white desk. "Go back to work."

"I don't have any work."

Louis' eyes pops open as his left brow cocks, "Excuse me? You do.  We have a meeting later for your daily reports. I'm your boss and I'm ordering you to go back to your office and do your job, Mr. Payne."

Liam raises his hands up in defense, a silly grin painted across his face, "Woah, woah, there, Mr. Executive. Okay, I'll do it later. I have much time. I just want to catch up, you know," he winks, leaning to  closer to  Louis' desk.

"I just drank. I left a few minutes after you did," he says, opening his desktop to check his email. "And in case you forgot, I'm a busy person. Out!"

"We can still go later and find your forever, you know," he grins widely.

Louis gapes at him. Liam's mouth is twitching and his shoulders  are  shaking as he tries no t  to laugh but Louis' face is am using . His brows are almost meeting, blue eyes wide in disbelief and his mouth hanging open that a bug can go inside. If Liam could take a picture, he would. Louis aggressively grabs a book nearby and aims it to Liam  and it hit nothing but the back of his chair . 

Liam finally laughs loudly. He clutches his stomach, slaps his knee and throws his head back. 

"Ugh. I could fire you, for fuck's sake," Louis mutters under his breath . "And for your information, I'm happy with my life. I don't need anyone."

"You're such a lonely man," Liam exclaims, wiping the corner of his eyes ,  trying to breathe.  "You're twenty-six  and you're not married yet. Are you planning to get married at thirty?" he laughs.

"Maybe," he says flatly, typing on the keyboard. "I'm happy. That’s what's important." 

"Duer can't keep you happy always . Go find someone that makes you feel important. Find someone who has a nice body, charming, and calm! Because you're hot headed . Where were we? Oh yeah! Calm  and... hmm,  maybe a little flirt. W hat do you think?" 

"What, are you a cupid now?" he snorts . His eyes scans  his  latest email. His  brows starts to  furrow  and  his  lips sets  t o a flat line, narrowing his eyes at the screen before he turns to Liam.  "Duer makes me happy. I do runs  in the morning and he goes with me . Sleeps with me. Eats with me. He loves me and I love him too. I can't see any problem." 

"You're stupid."

"You're an idiot."

"Whatever, I have Zayn."

"Whatever, I have Duer."

"Shut up."

"No, you shut up."

"Would you —"

"GO BACK TO WORK!" he  screams, making Liam j erk  on his seat. He smirks and reaches for  the tele phone to dial his secretary. He shoo s Liam  away  by  sho ving his  hands forward . Liam rolls his eyes and stick s  up his middle finger —Louis mouths a  _ fuck you _ — before running out of his office.  Oh yes, that's very unprofessional, they're so sorry but Louis owns the company and he runs it in his hands. These employees work  for him and besides, they're both alone and no one can see but them.

After a ring, a sweet voice comes in,  " Yes, Hello. Good morning!  Dixie Adams  of Tomlinson  Suites speaking."

"Any meetings today, Dixie?" he asks, pulling up some files in his drawer.  He clears his throat and bites his lips trying not to  raise his voice . The lines on his forehead doubles before he says the words he doesn't even have to ,  "Keep me updated."

"Oh!  G ood morning, Sir."

" Mornin' , "  he replies, trying to sound cheerful.

"Got it," she mutters  under her breath . "M eeting with Ms  Dessa Golubev at 11:00 am."

"Oh, yes, yes. Thank  you  for _reminding_ me. I have to talk to her about these problems in the hotel. Thanks, Dixie," he smiles weakly  and bites his lower lip over the phone.

"No worries, Sir. It's my job." He can see h er  smile over the phone. "I didn't skip my breakfast."

"Oh, good. Tell them not to skip breakfast to. I don't want anyone skipping breakfast," he says softly,  distracted  by reading the report sent by Ms Golubev. "Call me if I have to know something."

"Sure sir. Call me if you need anything."

He drops the call and picks up his pen then starts to read the report and do his job. It's not that hard to be a Ch i e f Executive Officer. You just have to attend meetings, solve problems, and read  stock s  of file on your desk. It's just a normal day for Louis  but he wants to fire Dixie. 

He picks up the phone and as soon as his secretary answers it, he clears his throat, "Come in here, Ms Adams. I have something to tell you ."

.

After a long day, Louis found himself at the same spot he was  at last night. The only difference is  that  he has champagne with him  and  not scotch. His eyes are constantly closing that he always tries to  keep  open. He reaches for his glass but then j erk s, almost spilling his champagne on his shirt,  when someone appears next to him.

"Jesus," he exhales, closing his eyes as he brings his glass to his lips. "Y ou scared me."

"I'm sorry, Sir,"  the waiter  chuckles. "Was just gonna ask you if you want another bottle."

"Your  voice is too deep," he says, opening his heavy eyelids. "And no, thank you. I'm already drunk, you see." His eyes focuses on the waiter in white  V  neck tee. His  chocolate  curls falling freely over his shoulder.  _ Wow, that's long and beautiful _ ,  Louis t hinks . 

"Are you alone, sir?" the waiter starts cleaning his table  and Louis notice how big his hand is compared to his own.

"You blind or have a poor eyesight?" He smiles at the waiter's chuckle. He narrows his eyes, lifting his limp hand , tongue dragging along his teeth .  "You look familiar."

"Am I?" 

"Were you the waiter that has been harassed by Spikey?"

" Spikey? You know him?"

"No, silly. I just gave him a name. Should've been called him Dick, though. Because you know.." he laughs, closing his eyes and letting his head falls backwards.  He can already feel the alcohol going to his head. He's drunk and he knows it.  "He's a dick."

"If you're alone how would you be able to go home?"

"Awe. Look at that. Strangers care for me while everyone don't. That's just sweet. Thank you," he giggles, massaging his temples. He can feel the heat inside his body and he knows it's his drink. Shit, he already forgot if he drank another alcohol before he ordered champagne. "My head's swimming."

"You should go home, Sir. We could call you a cab."

"I have my car."

"You can't drive."

He can picture the frown on the waiter's lip but he decide s  to let his eyes shut and relaxes on the sofa . He can feel himself floating, putting all his works and worries on the floor and feels himself fl oating . It feels good . H e sighs deeply. 

"Why do you care?" 

He opens his eyes and fixes his gaze towards the waiter. The waiter shrugs and gently grabs his bottle and glass of champagne. "I do care. You look lonely."

Louis laughs dryly, licking his lower lip before biting it. "Do I?"

"Yes."

"Sure," he chuckles.  Why people always tells him that he's lonely? Is he really lonely? Why it doesn't feel like he's lonely though? But h is brows furrow  in confusion and interest.  "Why are you talking t o me? I'm a stranger who goes to strip club. You shouldn't trust me. "

"I work in a strip club. People don't trust me."

Through his blurry sight, he swears he sees the boy's smile but it doesn't reach his eyes though his dimples pokes in his left cheek. To Louis' surprise, the boy slips on the space across from him. His brows sho o t up in surprise.  "What are you doing?"

"Sitting."

"I know. I mean —I thought you don't do tables?" his left brow arches , his mind traveling to last night where the Lady in Blue told Spikey he doesn't do tables.  "What are you doing then?"

"Trying to make friends," he fidgets with his fingers and puts it under the table  when he feels Louis' stare  at  them . "I mean, Elsie told me to —the own er of this place. She told me to wander and find someone who's alone and look calm. I thought —I saw you and then, yeah." 

"Don't you have friends? And by the way, I'm not calm. I'm usually shouting at everyone. It's just that I'm not in  the right place. " He pinches the bridge of  his nose, looking through his finger to look at the nervous poor waiter in front of him. "And did you say friends? Friendship happens normally. You don't force it. "

"Yes, I know. But I'm trying to be at ease when it comes to  customers.  I'm just.. trying not to be awkward or something. "

"Hmkay. But I'm sorry, my head fucking hurts. I can barely see you, to be honest. Maybe I'll come back tomorrow if I don't have so many works."

"What? Why would you come back?" 

"I don't know e ither ," he mutters under his breath. He gets up from his seat and straighten s  his long sleeves.  He left his coat in his car so he's only in his white long sleeves.  He didn't notice that the waiter looked at him from head to toe with open mouth.  "Don't ask though. Just be thankful I'm ready to help," he smiles up at the shock boy in front of him. "I don't have any intentions. You  were the one who approached me . I'm a harmless person. "

The waiter blinks and clearly recovers, clearing his  throat .  "Let's call you a cab."

"I can manage," he holds his hand up to stop him from moving either talking. He fishes out his phone in his  pocket  and scrolls clumsily on his phone. He has come too far that he has to scroll  back  up through his contacts. And after a few tries, he presses the phone against his  right  cheek ,  licking his lower lip trying to be awake ,  waiting for someone to pick up his call. "Pick me. I'm at the  club —uh, strip club — You know where it is. Please, thank you. I'll give you ten minutes my head's gonna explode. Take care."

"Let me walk you out."

"No need. I can manage. And besides you have some work to fulfill. Bye."

" Um, yep.  Bye . "

Louis turns his back on him and walk s  towards the exit with phone in his hand. His head is buzzing and he can't remember clearly if he paid  his alcohols before he drank  them or he put the  cash  on the table under the bottle of his champagne before that waiter approached him.  All he can think is he wants his own bed,  wrap  his body in his white duvet, and sleep  peaceful ly. N ot bothering to wake up early tomorrow for work. He's tired. He want to close his eyes but he can't and he's still walking towards the exit  that seems too far away  to  reach.

"Fuck. Why did I drink too much. Ugh."

His heart clenches  at the thought . He sniffs  and walks faster outside as soon as he spotted his black  SLS AMG GT. He feels the cold air  hits his face  as he narrows his eyes. Mikhail rushes to him as he walks to meet him in the middle but a  sonorous and rough  voice comes right behind  his ears.

"I'm Harry!"

He looks over his shoulder, pulling up a thumbs up and winks at him, "Got it!"

The waiter smiles back at him and gives him a salute. Louis walks away with Mikhail, his driver, next to him towards  the car . As soon as they are in his car, he slumps into his seat,  takes off his shoes, pulls up his knees to his chest and  lean s back on the seat.

"Please don't wake me up if we're already home. Just  carry  and put me to bed .  'M  so tired, " he turns to Mikhail who's starting to drive away  from the  club  when he didn't respond . "Heyyy."

"Oh, yes, Louis."

"Call me _Sir_ when I'm drunk, " he pouts, yawning an d  hugging himself  tight , m aking himself  look  smaller than he already is. Mikhail face splits into  a  smile as he glances at his boss next to him acting like a child. "Tell Fab to prepare me some Advil and tea and a glass of water.  Tell her d on't prepare  greeny shits for breakfast.  I might throw it all up when I wake up and I don't want to offend her. Hmm? "

"Copy."

"Put me to bed, Mikhail," he whines, voice smaller. "Hear me?"

"Yes."

"And take off my socks and —"

"Shh," Mikhail interrupts. "We all know what to do with you. For God's sake , our families  work for you almost since  we  were bunch of teenagers till now that  we 're a ll  full grown m e n  and wom e n . We know what you like and don’t."

"M'glad you're all home."

" The  two months vacation you gave  is over. Time to serve the king," Mikhail laughs as Louis smiles , cheeks pressed against the  seat . "We didn't need a holiday though."

"You do, yes. I'll give you a year if you'd like. You deserve it." 

Mikhail laughs loudly, "You're ridiculous." 

"I love you, Mikhail," he mumbles quietly, slowly shutting down himself. "His name is awesome."

"Who?"

"Henry."

Mikhail cackles  so loud that he chokes . He curses under his breath  trying to stable his compos ure  as he drives , adjusting his tie .  He shakes his head,  with  a big grin on his face,  "Oh god, You're drunk."

"Yes, I am. Can you ask Mick if he can pick up my car there? I don't want anything bad to happen to my car ."

"Sure," Mikhail nods, tapping his index fingers against the screen  of the phone in front of him.  Mikhail keeps his eyes on the road as the screen flashes Mick's name. He gently  pats  Louis' thighs, "Go to sleep, Louis."

"Sir," he whines but too sleepy to debate. "Night."

Before he can hear Mikhail's answer, he already  dozed off to sleep in side  his car  with his knees closer to his chest and look  the most adorable boss in the planet. He's Louis Tomlinson if you still don't know.


End file.
